


Beware of Crimson Peak

by maypoison



Category: British Actor RPF, Crimson Peak (2015) RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Kissing, Romance, Tom Is A Sweetheart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 11:50:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5047396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maypoison/pseuds/maypoison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being dragged to see your boyfriends new movie, you find yourself in desperate need of some comforting. </p><p>*WARNING! SPOILERS FOR CRIMSON PEAK MOVIE!*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beware of Crimson Peak

The house wasn’t cold. You knew that, but you were still freezing. The fire was blaring heat towards where you were sat, or more like led, on the sofa, but you still couldn’t stop a chill from creeping up your spine every few seconds.

You quickly drain your glass of red wine, wincing at the harsh tang of the alcohol, before reaching forward to grab the bottle that was sat on the table in front of you. Filling up your glass you are surprised to note that you had finished the bottle all by yourself. Quiet the achievement, given that you never really drank.

Sighing, you hold the glass close to yourself, and wonder whether you should try and find something else to drink in the house you shared with your boyfriend. You were still cold, but you knew it had nothing to do with the temperature of your home.

After today’s events, you found yourself desperately needing another glass of wine; or maybe six.

Cuddling yourself deeper into the blankets on your sofa, you try and distract yourself with doodling in your small notebook; attempting not to focus on the fact that you were home alone…

This morning, after meeting two old friends who you hadn’t seen for a while, you had been dragged to the cinema (literally) to see your boyfriend’s new film.

Neither of your friends could believe it when you had admitted you hadn’t seen Tom’s latest work, Crimson Peak, but you thought you had a very good reason to have not seen the film. Tom didn’t mind, but your friends just couldn’t let it go.

“I hate scary movies. You know I won’t be able to handle it! C’mon you guys …”

You had protested all the way to the ticket booth, and even as one of your friends was handing over the money for the tickets, you were still trying to figure out a way to convince them to let you see something else; anything else.

“You can’t _not_ see it, it’s Tom!” One of your friends had replied incredulously, as if you didn’t know that already.

“Yes, I know its Tom. I visited him on set …”

You still had the occasional nightmare about that.

It wasn’t that the visit had been bad. The set was gorgeous, and huge; your mouth had been on the floor the entire visit. Everyone was so friendly, and you had had a wonderful time. You had loved the décor, the props and the costumes … but you didn’t love the ghosts.

You hated ghosts.

Your two friends had bustled you into the screen, helped you hide behind a huge popcorn bucket when some young women had nearly noticed you, and made you watch the entire movie.

You had parted ways a few hours before, after going to a local pub to catch up. Your two companions had gushed about how great Tom was, but had complained that it wasn’t really _that_ scary. You disagreed, of course.

To your surprise though, it wasn’t the ghosts, the gore or the horror that had you so scared …

“Darling? Are you home?”

Quickly, you close your notebook, and place it down onto the coffee table. You reach over and grab your now half empty glass of red wine, and hope desperately that Tom doesn’t notice that the bottle sitting beside it was empty.

“In here!” You call out in reply, knowing that Tom would probably have guessed you’d be in bed by now.

It was well after midnight, and your boyfriend was only just returning from a meeting in central London. Obviously, it sounded as if it had went well…

Tom rounds the corner to your living room with a wide and handsome smile on his face. Taking off his coat, he places it on the back of the sofa, before quickly moving around to sit next to you.

“Evening.” He greets with a knowing smile, and you return the expression, before quickly leaning over to kiss him fleetingly on the lips.

As you pull your face away however, you notice that Tom is frowning.

“You’re cold, love.” Your boyfriend comments, and you purposely don’t say anything in response. Slowly, Tom raises a hand, and brushes it gently down the side of your face.

You try to smile convincingly. “I’m fine, I’ve just come in. It was freezing out.”

“Really?” Your boyfriend questions, whilst shifting around on the sofa to get into a more comfortable position. “Then how did you manage to drink an entire bottle of wine so quickly?”

Shit. You close your eyes and sigh, before glaring over at the bottle. “Traitor.” You hiss, knowing fully well that it was you who left it there in the first place.

Clearly the wine was affecting you more than you had originally thought …

“If I couldn’t already tell you’d drunk it all, _that_ told me.” Tom replies with a small smirk, before leaning forward to take the glass from your hand. He has a small sip, grimacing at the flavour. It was cheap wine, and clearly he noticed. “You aren’t so good with wine, love. What’s got you drinking all of a sudden?”

“I just fancied it.”

Tom frowns again as he moves to place the wine glass on the coffee table. Slowly he turns back to look at you, and you can’t help but fidget under his penetrating gaze.

“What’s wrong?” Tom questions, and you sigh internally.

He was always so good and reading you …

“Nothing.” You reply immediately, trying to smile reassuringly, but you’re sure it must look more like a grimace than anything else.

Tom raises an eyebrow, and you very purposely avoid looking at his face.

With a sigh, your boyfriend shifts his position once more, and reaches out to take one of your ice cold hands in his own.

“Are you ill?” He questions, and you just shake your head, too worried that if you speak you’ll begin to cry, and be unable to stop.

Taking a deep breath, and with the feeling of Toms warm hand in your own giving you comfort and courage, you blurt out, “I went to see Crimson Peak.”

Toms face falls; his smile dropping from his expression immediately.

“What? When?”

“Are you mad?” You question quietly with a wince, gripping hold of Tom’s hand even firmer than you had been before for comfort.

“Mad? Of course not.” Tom replies gently, holding both your hands in his own, and moving closer to you. “But you hate movies like that.”

“I still do …”

“Then why …” Suddenly Tom trails off, and his confused expression changes instantly. “Is that’s what’s wrong?” You don’t nod, or reply, but your misty eyes must give you away, as Tom shifts even closer to you. His long legs brush up against your own, and you are thankful for the warmth. “Oh sweetheart, you didn’t have to do that to yourself. You know I don’t mind that you didn’t see it.”

“I know, but I got dragged.” You reply with a shrug, trying to sound casual even as your voice breaks slightly towards the end of your sentence.  

Tom frowns, but you can tell instantly that his anger isn’t directed at you. “Did Jordan and Megan …”

“Yep.” You interrupt, and Tom grits his teeth in annoyance or anger, you can’t tell which.

“I’m going to kill them.”

You shake your head, and move to lean your head onto Toms broad chest, enjoying the warmth radiating from him. “No, no killing necessary. I think I’ve seen enough of that to last a lifetime.”

Tom smiles, but you don’t.

Noticing your silence, Tom sighs, and moves to wrap an arm around your back reassuringly. He continues to hold one of your hands in one of his own, and gently rubs his thumb up and down it.

“Was it the ghosts?” Your boyfriend questions, and you shake your head into his chest.

“No.”

“You mean, you weren’t scared?”

“Oh, I was terrified. I’m going to be having nightmares for months.”

Tom squeezes you around the shoulders, before rubbing your back soothingly. “I’ll protect you.”

You take a shuddering breath, before feeling Tom move around you on the sofa. Suddenly you feel warmth envelope your frame as the blankets you had brought in from the bedroom are placed around you.

“You … kissed her.” You say quietly; so quietly that you wonder whether Tom could have even heard you.

To your disbelief though, he does.

“Who?” Tom questions, moving to look down at you, his face contorted into a frown.

“Mia.” Toms frown falls even deeper at that, but you quickly shake your head, before correcting yourself. “I mean, Edith.”

Tom sighs, and runs a hand down your face once again. “Jealously doesn’t suit you darling …”

“I’m not jealous.” You argue, and Tom must see that you weren’t lying.

Cupping your cheek softly, Tom moves your face so you have no choice but to look up at him. “I don’t understand.”

“You looked …” You pause, swallowing nervously, trying to figure out how to say what you were thinking. “You … you really kissed her.”

“I was acting.” Tom says in reply, but not coldly. He looks down at you with a concerned expression, like he was trying to understand, but couldn’t. “Is that what’s bothering you? You’ve seen me do things like that before.”

“I know.”

Tom sighs, and you take the opportunity to bury your face into his chest once again, hiding from his kind but knowing gaze.

“Darling please, I’m trying to understand-”

“You died.” You interrupt suddenly, and the room falls into a dead silence.

Tom moves to speak, but you can hold your tears back no longer. Your breath comes out in a strange stutter, and you sob once quietly into his chest.

“Sweetheart …”

“I know, it’s stupid.” You mumble into Tom’s chest, your voice muffled. “I’ve seen you die before but-” You trail off then, not really sure yourself what to say next.

Tom shifts, but doesn’t try to move your face away from his body. He lets you cry quietly, whilst rubbing his hand up and down your back for comfort.

“What is it, my love?” Your boyfriend questions.

You sniffle, and clear your throat. Suddenly, before you lose your nerve, you sit up and move away from Tom. He watches you closer as you rub the tears from your eyes, his face a sad frown.

“It wasn’t a good movie for you.” You reply lamely, before huffing out a small pitiful laugh.

Tom smiles slowly, and shakes his head in agreement. “No, it wasn’t.”

You continue to sniffle, and attempt to clear the rasp from your throat before you reply. Taking another deep breath, your turn back to look at your boyfriend, a small but genuine smile on your pale face.

“You were really good.”

Tom breaks out into a wide smile then, his eyes gleaming with delight.

“Thank you, love.”

You jokingly shake your head, and shrug. “You had me convinced.”

Tom laughs quickly, clearly amused by your reaction. “Then I did my job.”

Before you can say anything else, Tom moves quickly, taking your face between his two warm hands. He kisses you deeply, his warm tongue running across your lips until you open your mouth slightly with a gasp. Tom takes the opportunity to move inside your mouth, running his tongue along yours in a sensual dance.

You both break apart with a gasp, neither wanting to stop, but having to in order to breath.  

Your eyes are still blurry with your unshed tears, and you reach up a cold hand quickly to clear your vision.

Tom looks at you sadly, running a hand through your hair.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this shaken before.”

You quickly laugh, having to agree with him. You’d never been this affected by one of his roles.

“I’ve never seen you do something like that before.” You reply, and Tom moves his face closer to yours, gently rubbing his lips against your own.

“I’m alright love.” Tom says against your mouth, before pulling you in for another passionate kiss.

Your hands move with volition, moving into Tom’s hair, running down his back, before sliding back up to his waist.

You break apart again to regain your senses, but this time a sensual look had crept into your boyfriend’s vision. Your insides flutter as he stares deeply into your eyes.  

“I love you.” Your boyfriend says in a deep rasp, his eyes still baring into your own. He smiles then, seeing your blush. “Did that convince you?”

“Maybe.” You reply coyly, trying not to smile. “But I think I need a little more convincing …”


End file.
